


Not Your Typical Storybook Elves

by occasionalwriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Broken Bones, Elves, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Poor Stiles, Scott is a Good Friend, everyone is still there and loves each other, the pack helps Stiles because he breaks his femur, they're a happy pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5547530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasionalwriter/pseuds/occasionalwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is surprised that the thing that inflicts his worst injury to date is an elf. From what pop media had told him, they were supposed to be cute and sweet. Turns out, not so much and he has a pack that will vouch for him on that fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Typical Storybook Elves

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a short little story I hope you like! It's not much but it might get me back into the swing of things again! Enjoy!

Stiles was genuinely surprised that he’d lasted this long without a serious injury. Considering the amount of fights that the pack got in he’d figured that he’d at least have broken a significant bone by now but he’d managed to keep himself relatively safe. There was no doubt some help from the rest of the pack in that respect, watching his back and just generally doing what a pack does and making sure everyone is okay, but he’d like to think his own intelligence could account for at least some of the evasions.

Until that moment. In that moment he was about six seconds from wishing he was dead because when they said breaking your femur was excruciating, they were understating it by about a million. It took a couple seconds for it to actually sink in, the pain not really registering until just a little bit after a solid crack echoed through the trees around him.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, right alongside a lump that could easily translate into him throwing up if it tried hard enough, as he dropped to the ground. He tried his best to keep any and all pressure off his bad leg, lying on his back and staring up at the sky as he tried to focus on literally anything else in the world.

God damn elves were supposed to be cute little creatures that helped Santa make Christmas presents. Or, at worse, they were the poor servants like in Harry Potter and could occasionally make snarky comments. But they weren’t supposed to have the strength of a werewolf or the cleverness of snakes. Nevertheless, here they were in the midst of a battle with the little assholes doing their best to not get killed by their razor sharp nails.

Stiles had been doing pretty well, he’d kept out of the way and only got in the middle of the mess when there was a direct threat to one of the wolves. So, when one was fighting against Isaac and another leapt onto his back with it’s wrinkled little hands going around his throat, Stiles leapt forward to slam his bat down as hard as he could on the things back.

In a high pitched howl of pain, it dropped off Isaac who went back to focusing on the one in front of him as the now injured one turned heated eyes toward Stiles. They had to be killed, Stiles new that, but once someone, or something, made eye contact with you, it made it about ten times harder.

That held true as Stiles raised his bat up once more only to have it yanked back by a third elf while the injured one (who was apparently still more than capable of causing harm) lunged forward and landed a rock solid punch to his thigh.

He was pushed backwards a few feet with the force, the crack sounding as he fell, and then the pain. And then the sky looking down at him and a few yells of his name all coming in a muddled mess.

A few seconds later Boyd was over him, looking down at him for a brief second before turning and throwing his arm back, connecting with one of the final elves. Stiles managed to turn his head enough to see Erica finish that one off, the thing crumbling to dust with her final swipe, as Boyd got down on one knee next to him. 

“What happened?”

It took him a little longer than it probably should’ve for him to realize that Boyd was directing the question at him, but he turned his head back so it was looking at him when he answered, “Punched me in the leg.”

“Dick.”

“No kidding.” Stiles smirked, a shot of pain rocketing through his body and kicking his nausea up a few notches as Boyd winced sympathetically. Not too much later, Erica was there as well, smiling down at him and giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m going to straighten out your leg.” Boyd says evenly, not looking up at Stiles’ face in fear that he’d lose his guts to do it.

“No, no…” Stiles says, panic edging into his voice as he feels one of Boyd’s hands on his shin, tightening briefly before he starts to pull it as gently as he can.

A scream manages to tear it’s way out of his throat before he can bite it back and blinding pain accompanies the white spots in his vision. He does his best to fight through it, hands digging into the dirt on either side of him as his back arches off of the ground. He feels Erica holding him down, and then sees a shadow to the other side of him that he can’t quite get a grip on when the movement finally stops and he can breathe again.

“Stiles, you’ve got to take some deep breaths.” Isaac says, apparently the figure to his right side. He’s pulling some of the pain but he’s still a little worn out and can’t actually do much more than take the edge off.

Then Scott’s down next to Isaac, closer to his legs so he’s across from Boyd, and he sends a worried smile up toward Stiles. “We’ll get you to the hospital.”

Stiles trusts Scott, trusts that he’ll get him there but he’s not quite sure that his leg won’t just fall right off of his body if they try and move him. He’s also not sure that he won’t throw up in whosever car they try to get him in but he can’t feel too bad about that all things considered.

As he tries to figure out the logistics, and ignore the radiating pain, he can tell that they’re trying to figure out the best way to get him up and moved without sending him over the edge into unconsciousness. If he could get the brain power up to speak, he’d let them know that he was wholeheartedly okay with them letting him pass out. As long as the pain couldn’t reach his subconscious. That could drive anyone insane.

Allison and Lydia are standing up and off to the side, Allison on the phone with her dad while Lydia seems to be studying the dust surrounding them and Derek is there, finally it seems, and kneeling down next to his head. He makes eye contact for a little bit, his mouth moving but it’s starting to come through a little bit of a fog for Stiles so he can’t really make out what he’s saying. Then Derek’s face is turning up toward the rest of them and his mouth is moving again. Someone readjusts their position just enough to bump Stiles and while they profusely apologize he’s busy throwing up to the side with someone propping him up just enough to keep him from choking on it.

“Stiles, can you hear me?”

It’s Scott, he can tell that much, and he spits off to the side before answering, “Yes, I’m fine…”

“You’re not fine but we’re going to get you up.” Scott promises. He has gives him another reassuring smile and says, “Erica went to get something for us to carry you on. Derek thinks there’s a plank of wood big enough that we can get you onto it. It should help us get you to the hospital without hurting you too much.”

Stiles hadn’t even realized she’d ran off but he nodded in acknowledgement. Derek’s hand had found it’s way to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze every so often as he spoke quietly to the rest of the pack. Stiles mouth felt and tasted gross, the puke sitting next to him not helping matters as he tried to keep from repeating the experience.

“Erica’s close.” Derek says, leaning down enough that Stiles has no choice but to hear him, “Scott’s going to call your dad on our way there.”

Stiles thinks he nods and they all wait quietly for Erica to return. Or at least he thinks it’s quietly, he may just be so focused on the pain that he can’t hear them. Both equally likely possibilities.

Erica is dragging the slat of wood behind her, barreling through the woods to get to them, and when she crashes through the trees they all turn to look at her. She looks a little apologetic but also slightly out of breath which has Stiles smiling at her thankfully because at least she didn’t stall or take her sweet time.

Then she’s lying it next to him, Scott and Isaac moving out of the way so it’s on his good side. Derek is then getting his hands beneath Stiles’ shoulder blades, and he feels Boyd at his bad side sliding his hands under his back. Erica makes her way to his bad leg, just barely getting a hold of his shin with her other hand going beneath his thigh.

Then Scott is counting for them and on three they’re lifting up as quickly and gently as they can, putting him down with the same efficiency and doing their best not to jostle him. He managed to bite on his lip hard enough to keep in a scream but then they were lifting him up quick enough to make him dizzy and he passed out a half a second later.

When he comes back to consciousness he’s in the backseat of Scott’s mom’s car and Scott's at the wheel. His upper body is propped up thanks to Isaac with his legs lying across the rest of the backseat, as straight as they could get them.

“We’re almost there.” Isaac tells him, shuffling him just enough that he can get a better grip as Scott skids to a stop at the final stoplight. “How’re you feeling?”

“Absolutely miserable.” Stiles says with a big of a groan. “And I have a feeling it’s not going to get any better for a while now.”

Stiles glances up to Isaac when he doesn’t answer right away and sees guilt creeping up on his face, “I’m so sorry… I should’ve knocked that last one out before it got to you.”

“Dude, no. You were already fighting one off. It’s not your fault. It was just an accident.” Stiles promises, glancing up at Derek who’s in the front seat of the car. Derek nods a little bit and looks back at the two of them, “Where’re the others?”

“Erica and Boyd went back to the house and said that you can call them if you need anything.” Derek says.

“Allison says the same.” Scott pipes up, pulling into the hospital parking lot a little too sharply for Stiles' liking, “Lydia and her went to get some groceries for you since your dad is working overtime and you obviously won’t be able to make it to the store any time soon. They’ll be over later tonight.”

“Erica just texted me.” Isaac says, holding his phone so the two of them can see it and reads aloud for the two in the front seats, “She says she’ll bring over pizza tonight with Boyd and if Stiles isn’t too drugged up we can watch a movie or something.”

Then they’re in the drop off area and Scott is glancing to Derek, making some complicated face that has Derek glaring for a second before groaning and pulling himself up out of the car. He takes a couple of steps back, opening the door at Stiles’ feet and then asks, “How do you want to do this?”

“My mom should be coming out to help.” Scott informs them, “So wait for her I guess.”

Derek nods and Isaac gives Stiles’ shoulder a squeeze just as Melissa comes barreling out the door with the calm demeanor that she always manages to keep no matter how sever the situation. She nudges past Derek for a second and sighs before saying, “There’s no way that you’ll be able to get out that isn’t at all painful but once we get you inside we can get you on some good pain meds and all casted up.”

Stiles nods as Isaac starts scooting him forward just a little big, Derek making his way back to the door and grabbing a hold of Stiles’ good leg with a iron tight grip. Stiles winces in anticipation for what his other leg will feel like when that happens but Derek clearly knows his limits and just barely touches his bad leg, supporting him as Isaac does most of the work to move him forward.

Finally they’re most of the way out with Isaac holding him under the armpits and Derek doing the rest of the work, Melissa rolling a gurney under him as soon as she can and taking control right after that. Scott pulls the car away as Isaac and Derek follow Melissa into the building, promising Stiles that they did call his dad when he asks and assuring him that the Sheriff would be there as soon as he could.

Melissa wheels Stiles back out three hours later, doped and casted up to where his dad is standing nervously and fiddling with his wallet. When he notices the two of them make it into the waiting room he darts toward them and squats a little bit to be eye level with Stiles, “What the hell happened?”

Stiles giggles a little, which has a worried Scott coughing out a surprised chuckle, “Elves dad, elves!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” But he sounds like he fully believes the explanation, no matter how much he wants to find it unbelievable. He runs a tired hand through his hair and then gives a grateful smile to Melissa, “Well, let’s get you home. Scott promised he’d help you around for a while and I heard Isaac say something about pizza tonight…”

Stiles looks like he wants to protest but his thoughts get lost in the process which has his dad rolling his eyes and taking the handles of the wheelchair from Melissa, “Derek was here and said to tell you that he hopes you’re on the good drugs but he had to go help Argent with clean up. He’ll come for dinner.”

He doesn’t get any response besides a wobbly nod and Stiles gesturing forward with his hand. Isaac and Scott lead the way out to the car where the Sheriff has it pulled up right on the front curb, perks of being part of law enforcement, and they help to get him settled in the passenger seat.

Scott gives his shoulder a slap and says, “We’ll meet you out your house. Erica should be bringing the pizza over in a few hours. Mom says you should rest a little bit though, sleep through some of the worst of the drugged up time.”

Stiles lifts one hand to grab a hold of the one Scott has resting on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze, smiling up at him genuinely and even looking a little teary eyed, “Thank you Scott, thanks for saving me from the elves. And Isaac… Where’s Isaac?”

Isaac steps up with a little bit of a smirk, directly in Stiles line of vision who takes his hand from Scott and reaches up toward Isaac. Isaac grabs a hold of it awkwardly as Stiles gushes his thanks to Isaac as well before his dad is telling him that they need to get going and Stiles let’s go abruptly, turning to his dad and seemingly forgetting the two of them are there at all as Scott shuts the door behind him.

That night, the pack comes over and Stiles’ dad eats more pizza than Stiles would ever let him if he was aware of his surroundings and everyone else finds space across the living room while Erica pops in a DVD for them to watch. Before they even get to through the first scene of the movie, Stiles is passed out and resting his head on Scott’s shoulder who’d been subtly checking for any pain every couple of minutes until Stiles had passed out.

Derek kept sending him apologetic glances which Stiles couldn’t quite decipher at the moment but vowed to think about it later if he could remember.

Lydia was ever so aloof but her resolve slipped a few times; once when Stiles realized he wouldn’t be able to drive for the next eight to twelve weeks and another time when he muttered something about being an idiot for being in the situation in the first place. He wouldn’t remember the next day but she’d been the one to make sure that he didn’t feel bad about the situation and assured him again and again that it could happen to anyone.

Allison makes sure that whatever Stiles needs, he has, and usually she brings it to him before he even realizes he wants it. There’s a full glass of water at his side at all times with a plate of assorted food never out of his reach and a blanket draped over his lap where his bad leg is propped up on the table in front of him with a pillow wedged underneath it.

Boyd keeps asking him if there’s anything he can do, apparently not content to just sit around for any length of time and constantly up and moving around, shuffling the pillow or refilling the glass of water even if he’d only taken one drink out of it.

Erica had curled up on one side of him as soon as she’d made it into the house, promising him that they won’t make fun of him if the cast starts to smell weird and saying that she’ll even give him a back massage if it cramps up too much from not being able to move around much.

Isaac seems to feel so guilty that he won’t move from his spot at Scott’s feet, leaning against the couch right next to where Stiles’ leg is propped up and watching it like he’s afraid it’s going to break more or sporadically combust or something equally terrifying. Stiles nudges him with it every so often which causes the ache to spike briefly but it’s worth it when Isaac finally tears his gaze away from the cast and glances up at his face.

Scott is glued to the side that Erica didn’t take, making sure that he’s not in pain and being so careful that he doesn’t nudge Stiles wrong that he barely even shifts in his seat throughout the entire night.

Right before Stiles passes out he figures the situation could be a lot worse. But he’s still going to milk it for all it’s worth.


End file.
